


A Little Pick You Up

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Banter, Coffee, Flirting, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Romance, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony needs his midday hit of caffeine, but when he finds himself alone in the cafe with an unfairly handsome, blue-eyed artist, he gets a midday hit on, instead.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 38
Kudos: 799





	A Little Pick You Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isle_girl808](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isle_girl808/gifts).



> A little appetizer gift for my MTH winner, isle_girl808. I hope you don't mind - I loved your little prompt and I wanted to give you something romantic to snack on while you wait for your big fic (^_^)

Tony pushed open the door to The Bean Counter with his shoulder, barely glancing up from his phone. The caffeine withdrawal headache was already starting, creeping up over his sinuses where he knew it would settle right inside his temples and _pound._ He glanced up long enough to find the end of the line and shuffled into place, dropping his eyes back to his email.

God, this project was going to take twice as long to get through, wasn't it? He typed out a quick reply to a chain of emails that was getting altogether too lengthy for how utterly unimportant it was.

"Oh," said a soft voice somewhere in the vicinity of Tony's forehead, aimed at his impending headache like a missile. "Sorry. I'm not really in line."

Tony peeled his eyes away from his phone and found two bright, beautiful, blue ones looking down at him from the face of a stranger. Nice face, though. Very nice face. Nose and a mouth and everything. Tony cleared his throat. "Pardon?"

"I already ordered," the guy said, almost bashful. "But… um." He looked back towards the counter and Tony peered around him to find the long stretch behind the cash register completely unmanned. "It might be a while."

"How long have you been standing here?"

"About ten minutes."

"Are they closed?"

"Oh no," the guy said. "They took my order. But then something beeped in the back and they both looked really panicked, and disappeared back there. And then one left."

"One left," Tony echoed.

"Yeah. I saw her go out the side door."

"But the other barista is still back there?"

"I think so!" the guy said brightly. "Hope so." His brow twisted a bit. "Maybe."

Tony blinked around, realizing for the first time that the entire cafe was empty except for him and Unfairly Handsome over there. "What if the one murdered the other and when the police come, they're going to think it was us?"

Handsome stared. "Well, I'll be your alibi, obviously."

"Thank you. But, uh. What if _you_ murdered both of them before I got here and now you're waiting for me to turn my back so you can murder me too?"

"A fair question." He hummed. "One I don't have a satisfactory rebuttal for. Oh! Except -" he snapped his fingers "- if I had, why would I be standing around just waiting for someone to come in and accuse me of murder? If I had killed the baristas, I would have taken my coffee and left. Set the sign to closed. No one would find out til shift change and by then I'd be in Mexico."

"With your coffee."

The guy sighed wistfully. "Yeah, with my coffee."

Tony extended his hand. "Tony."

The guy laughed as he shook it. "Yeah, I know. I saw you on the cover of People last week. I'm Steve."

"Hi, Steve. Nice to meet you. I like people who have seen me on the cover of People last week. Though -" Tony let his eyes dance over Steve's perfectly too-tight t-shirt "- I probably like people who saw me on the cover of Hung Magazine last week even more." 

The corner of Steve's lips quirked up. "Might have seen that one too," he said softly, something decidedly flirty in his eyes. "You know -" he waved his hand "- somewhere on the internet."

"Uh huh." Tony grinned. "So what about you? What magazines have you been gracing the cover of lately? Biceps and Bisexuals?"

Steve laughed out loud. "More like Struggling Artists Quarterly, but sure, whatever distracts you from me counting out my coffee money in dimes." He flexed a little bicep, and Tony couldn't help the chuckle that leaked out. 

"Consider me sufficiently distracted."

"Surprised it didn't take more. You were glued to that phone when you came in."

Tony sighed and nodded. He grabbed the edge of a nearby chair and pulled it over, sinking down. "Yeah. Work's a bitch right now. I've got about forty projects on my plate and none of them are going the way they should be. Everything's over budget, everything's behind."

Steve winced. "Sorry. That's rough."

"Struggling artist, huh? Got anything you can show me?"

Steve visibly hesitated for a moment then pulled his phone out. "I guess." He flicked open the camera roll app and Tony watched him flick through shots of a few people, a dog, a pigeon in the park, and then -

"Wow. Holy shit, you're good." Tony took the proffered phone and stared at the art on the screen. It was a study with a nude model, a woman on the floor, leaning against a stool with her hand pushed up into her hair. Her curls rippled around her fingers, her eyes closed and a soft smile gracing her lips. It was beautiful. "Really good."

"Thank you." There was an adorable dusting of pink across Steve's cheeks. "That's - wow. I mean, that means a lot coming from you. Your art collection is famous."

"It's more Pepper's than mine," Tony said with a wave of his hand. "But I still know good when I see it. Don't give up." He handed the phone back. "And give me your card. Better make it a few."

"Gosh," Steve said to himself, under his breath as he fumbled for his wallet. He handed over three, slightly crumpled, home-printed business cards, and Tony put them in his jacket pocket.

Tony looked back over at the deserted counter. "I don't think they're coming back. Did you pay?"

Steve shook his head. "No."

"I'm going to get the shakes soon. I need to get coffee somewhere else." Tony stood up. "Wanna come with me? My treat."

"Oh. Oh!" Steve's blush deepened. "I'd love to, but it's eight blocks to the next cafe that isn't Starbucks and I'm not really a fan of Starbucks. I'm sure you don't have time for that."

Tony worked his bottom lip between his teeth and considered Steve. "Actually… there's somewhere closer than that, if you like."

"Oh? Somewhere new? I always like to try new places."

Tony took the plunge. "Yeah. Two blocks. My place. I make a mean espresso. And I have all the back issues of Hung."

Steve blinked for a moment, stunned, and Tony wondered if he'd gone too far, but then a slow smile bloomed on Steve's face. He ducked his chin, eyes falling to the floor, then rolled them back up to Tony, peeking out from shockingly long eyelashes, one eyebrow quirked slightly towards the ceiling. "Yeah? You sure?"

"I'm sure. If you want to. After all, if we're going to be tried for murder together, we should probably get to know each other."

Steve laughed. "Good idea. Get our story straight and all that."

"Yeah," Tony breathed. Steve had stood up too and now they were standing unusually close together. Tony found he didn't want either of them to move, though. "Okay. My place."

"Your place."

Tony dropped his eyes to his phone again and typed out another reply to the endless chain.

_Sudden urgent business. Out of office the rest of the day._

Steve took one step towards the door then stopped and held out his hand to Tony. Tony took it, managing to roll his eyes at the fifth-grade crush of it all while also blushing to high heaven. But when Steve wove their fingers together and set off down the street, Tony also couldn't hold back his smile. He looked up at Steve's face, glowing golden in the sun. Just coffee probably wasn't going to cut it, was it? This guy was something special.

He snuck his phone out again and typed out one more message, one-handed.

_Might be out tomorrow too._


End file.
